Transition to reality

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I was the girl who wanted the poetic professions, meaningful confessions, breathtaking kind of love. Basically, the “fairytale” kind of love.
As a little girl, I watched fairytale movies and as teen I would watch romantic movies. Yeah, you know the kind. The ones where there is a huge love scene and a man that confesses his true and undying love and they live happily ever after.
Maybe someone like Nicholas Sparks is popping into your head right now. I guess you could say I literally wanted every kind of love he has ever written about. It’s like someone sent him my inner thoughts and desires and he was the one who got to put it on paper and make the money off of my ideas of love and what it should be. How unfair that he gets all the credit, right? Ha!

I had my own thoughts and plans of how my life would happen and the kind of love I would have. As life did what it usually does, things didn’t exactly happen like I thought. The love I found is certainly not a fairytale, or is it? Was I wrong about what a fairytale love really is and is really about?

My husband and I have been down a lot of different roads and we have traveled almost every single one together . With us, one thing is for sure, each road we’ve ever taken has always led us back to where we were supposed to be, home. Home, which to us, meant each other and where the other one was.
When this first started, we were very young, I had turned fifteen only eight days prior to the beginning of our love story. Two months in we took “a break”. It didn’t last long though and since then we have been fully in this thing and haven’t looked back. All this time we have both been trying to figure out what love is and what it means and how to cope with things life threw our way, but we have endured it side by side.

So, we have the whole high school sweetheart thing going for us. We did college, starter jobs, nursing school, terrible rental houses, being broke (seriously broke, living on about $450 a month while in nursing school and commuting 60 miles one way every day kind of broke) and literally starting from nothing together. As I lay in bed tonight writing this, eight and a half years later, we are married, have careers, fur babies and a physical place to call “home”, and have accomplished every step of the way together. It hasn’t always been easy, but we are where we are now, regardless.

When people are together as long as we have been, when you start to settle down, and especially when you meet new people who haven’t known you both for the entirety of your relationship, a lot of people like to ask questions. You know the ones, “where did it all start?”, “what’s the story?”, “is it all you thought it would be?”, “when/how did you know he/she was the one?”, and the infamous “so, how’s married life?”. You know, the typical questions people ask hoping for a dramatic, fairytale love story.

Well, honestly, I’m not even sure if there was a definitive moment where we knew we were “meant to be”.

Instead, there were definitive moments where we knew the other one needed someone or to be picked up off their rear-end. Instead, there were definitive moments where things designed to tear us apart pushed us closer.

Thereby, after a series of all those “moments” later, we had fallen in love over time and our love had time to grow and mature as we did. To my memory there was never a single moment that determined the fate of our love, instead there were moments that developed the love fate had planned for us. Do I really believe in “fate”? Well the answer to that is, no. However, I do believe in a grand master plan designed by the Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ. I do believe that he has allowed us to get us to where we are, fairytale or not.

Truth is, we never really had the big romantic gestures or the hero to rush in and save the girl.

Instead, we have nights like tonight. Nights that’s consist of eating dinner, sitting on our couch watching tv while he pokes fun at me for crying at a sappy movie. Nights that include playing with our animals and making sarcastic comments at each other. Nights where he chases me around the house, and we have tickle wars that end up with something getting broke and us having to sit in the floor with tools (tonight a hammer) and fix the mess we just made. Our romantic gestures mean making each other laugh until we are struggling to catch our breath and laughing so hard it’s difficult to process words or actions. So I guess I did get the breathtaking kind of love, after all.

So what about the poetic kind of love? The confession kind of love? I wanted those things too, right?
Well, my husband isn’t a very emotional man, and certainly not the one who is very good at expressing them.

Therefore, here’s another truth for you, there’s never really been this long, move you to tears kind of speech.
Instead, there are days where I get flowers with a small note attached specifying an occasion and our signature “I love you more than life” phrase we coined only tell each other. Instead, there are times when he will play the song of our first dance and spin me around our kitchen floor. Instead, there are date nights where he takes me out and still opens my car door for me. Instead, there are cold mornings where he will crank my car so it can be warm for me. Instead, there are rainy days where he will get wet to hold the umbrella over me.

He may never write me a song, or tell me a page long sappy spill about how he feels about me. That’s okay, because when he remembers the little things, when he kisses me goodnight and says “I love you, Amie”, when he tells me “be careful and let me know when you get there”, when he asks me “are you ok? what can I do?” during a difficult time, when he looks me in the eyes and says “I love you more than life”, I just know. I know every single time a moment like that happens that this man was made for me and I am meant to spend the rest of our lives together.
The older I get, and the longer I’m with him, the more I realize, I don’t need the “fairytale” kind of love in novels or in movies because I’ve got a reality kind of love!

I have a home filled with pictures, stories, memories and a man who loves me more than anything else in the world other than our savior, Jesus Christ. I have the kind of love where I can pour every bit of me and anything I’m too weary to carry into him and he will shoulder it for me.  I have the kind of love that will wipe my tears when he’s mad at me because it hurts him to see my cry no matter how bad I drive him crazy. I have the kind of love that fills my heart and soul. I have a man that I can lay down next to at night and never have a worry about if he loves me or is married to me for the right reasons. I have a man who I know would lay down his life for me at any given moment because he loves me “more than life”.
I’m not upset ,at all, that I don’t have a fairytale love and probably won’t live “happily ever after”.
Instead, I rejoice because I have a love I can count on to make it to an “ever after”, nonetheless, that some of them may not be happily.

Instead, I rejoice that I have a REAL love with a REAL man!
So, tell me again, why did I ever want a fairytale kind of love?
Seriously though, I’m so glad I made the transition from hoping for a fantasy love to living my reality love!

Well wishes

-AW

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